This One Doesn’t Go To Eleven

Let’s talk Big Numbers.

Here is a great thing Riley (2 1/2) did the other night at dinner. She was counting on her fingers. “One, two, three, four… ten!” As everyone knows, little kids counting on their fingers is very cute. I could watch her do that over and over again and not get bored. Okay, I have watched her do it over and over again without getting bored. But then she animatedly and excitedly added a new insight…

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten… Ten… And… There’s no eleven there, Daddy! Look Mommy! There’s no eleven there!

So, unlike in Spinal Tap (if you haven’t seen Spinal Tap, you owe it to yourself to rent it…), this one does not go to eleven.

That’s my girl.

Here’s a great Big Numbers thing Sidney did. It was about a year ago now, but I didn’t have a blog then, so I’ll tell you now. I was reminded of it the other night with Riley’s Big Numbers Epiphany.

Sidney was getting excited about her age, and the ages of girls she admired who were a few years older, and how every year we all get to have a birthday and get a year older. Usually we also get to have some sort of birthday party — except, of course, those years in which we as adults become foolish enough to lament our birthdays as one more step toward our inevitable doom rather than celebrate them as reminders of our birth. In that case, we stop having birthday parties and hope nobody notices it’s our birthday, which is, of course, just sad.

But hey, kids don’t have this sadness — they can’t wait for their birthdays because of the sweets and presents involved, and because they get to be the center of attention, and as adults we’d be wise to rekindle this insight every year and get with the program like we did when we were younger. Sure, on your birthday you’re a year older and a year closer to your death — but isn’t that stark insight all the more reason to at least get something out of it and let the people you know kiss your ass for a day and feed you junk food? I sure as hell think so.

Anyway, I’ve digressed but I’m back on topic: Sidney was interested in the concept of birthdays. So Mommy and Sidney were talking about how she was going to turn four years old soon. Sidney thought that sounded pretty big and mature and cool. Then Mommy told Sidney that Daddy was 36 years old. Sidney gasped — awestruck, dumbfounded, impressed, in disbelief. And then she exclaimed:

“That’s a lot of getting older!”

Uh-huh.

Your old friend,

Cory

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